


Dressed up to the eyes (it's a wonderful surprise)

by dharma_club



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Divorce, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:27:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22883284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dharma_club/pseuds/dharma_club
Summary: “I love your glasses,” the cute barista at the coffee place tells Kyle, making everything immediately better and holding Kyle’s double shot espresso in one hand, reaching to take Kyle’s credit card with the other.“Oh. Thanks,” Kyle says awkwardly, frantically looking for something he could say to return the compliment.
Relationships: Kyle Dubas/William Nylander, very minor Mitch Marner/Auston Matthews
Comments: 18
Kudos: 201





	Dressed up to the eyes (it's a wonderful surprise)

**Author's Note:**

> This is weirdly personal to me for a variety of reasons, but I've been trying to be more specific in my writing and everyone keeps saying to write what you know, so...¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Thoughts about this fic's specific approach to Willy being gender nonconforming are in the end notes. 
> 
> And thanks for reading!

_ Monday you can fall apart  
Tuesday, Wednesday break my heart  
Thursday doesn't even start  
It's Friday I'm in love _

**(1) Monday**

Kyle isn’t sure how to commemorate the day his divorce goes through. He’s taken off his ring the day he moved out and there’s not much else left in his life to remind him of his failed marriage, unless he counts the bitter taste of disappointment and resentment that has become the flavour of his lackluster life in the last year. He buys a bottle of the most expensive Mezcal he can buy and gets drunk alone in his apartment, no one there to judge him for it.

He wakes up in the middle of the night, shuffling to the bathroom. He’s still drunk when he decides to take his contacts out when taking a piss, which explains how one of them ends in the toilet bowl. It’s not a good enough reason to cry, but he considers it for a quick moment, alone and lonely and too fucking old to be this drunk. He flushes the water instead. Fuck it. Fuck it all.

He still feels like shit the next day. Shannon has always told him he looked snotty when wearing his glasses.

“I love your glasses,” the cute barista at the coffee place tells Kyle, making everything immediately better and holding Kyle’s double shot espresso in one hand, reaching to take Kyle’s credit card with the other.

“Oh. Thanks,” Kyle says awkwardly, frantically looking for something he could say to return the compliment. It’s not like he’s never looked at Willy; Kyle’s been coming to this coffee shop since he moved to his new place four months ago, and ogling the cute barista for almost as long. He’s very familiar with those broad shoulders and bright eyes. If Kyle had any ounce of creative talent in his body he’d probably have written at least eight odes dedicated to the satisfyingly devastating way their ass fills a pair of sweatpants. But Shannon once told Kyle it’s disgusting to compliment someone’s physical appearance, and Kyle doesn’t want to be labeled as the kind of guy who objectifies their barista. Even though that’s exactly who he is now.

“I like your nail polish,” Kyle finally says and it sounds as lame out loud as it did in his head. It’s dark red today, Kyle would almost assume Willy’s like a modern-age goth if he hadn't seen them wear baby blue nail polish and bubblegum pink dungarees two days ago.

His barista smiles widely, a row of perfect white teeth matching their perfect face and perfect body.

“Thanks,” they grins effortlessly, and Kyle feels so self-conscious he can’t cope with staying in the coffee shop any longer, but he is forced to stay there, waiting for his card back. He sips from his espresso, restless in a weird way.

“When are you getting apple pay?” Kyle complains for what feels like the hundredth time that month alone. It’s a little backwater to be this behind basic technology and wholly unexpected from how the coffee shop is decorated, nothing but bright marble countertops and millennial pink walls.

“I’ll ask Mo,” Willy shrugs, handing Kyle his card back.

“Chai matcha, please,” the woman behind Kyle says impatiently, not even waiting until Kyle’s had the chance to get his wallet out again.

His barista bites their lower lip, meeting Kyle’s eyes for the last time that day, and turns to her.

“Regular milk?” Willy asks.

Kyle’s been occasionally thinking about Willy that way for a few months now. His barista. It’s not anything, really, just a little bit of a harmless infatuation. They’re way too young for Kyle for one, and besides Kyle has never had a conversation with Willy that wasn’t about coffee or a random opinion about the weather. It’s just. It’s not.

Kyle drops a dollar into one of the two tip jars on the counter. The sign says “leather jacket” and “Gucci purse” on either side today, and Kyle is happy to see the majority of the clientele agrees with him that there is something about leather no brand name can replace.

Kyle really likes this place. Sure, its biggest attribute is those three minutes a day when he orders his morning coffee and sees that smile. But in those three minutes Kyle wants to kill himself a little less, and surely that's a good investment for $5. The coffee is pretty solid too.

**(2) Tuesday**

Willy doesn’t usually work Tuesday mornings, so Kyle is surprised to see his barista there, standing on a ladder and arranging bags of coffee. They’re wearing the softest looking grey sweatpants that make Kyle re-evaluate his sleepwear choices. And lack of sleeping partners, but that’s nothing new. The guy who usually works Tuesdays is at the till.

“Hi,” he says, looking bored.

“Hey,” Kyle blinks, taken aback.

“You know what you want?” He asks impatiently, as if Kyle’s entire existence in the coffee shop is a personal affront to him. Kyle is very well aware that his well pressed suit and boring tie don’t quite fit in the violently hipster space. But even business execs need to drink coffee. Especially business execs, some would say.

“Double espresso, tall,” Willy says, climbing down the ladder and Kyle only mourns their ass disappearing from view a little. Their hair is tied back today haphazardly, showing off their lightly stubbled jaw and Kyle maybe wants to tell them they should keep this look forever. Kyle has seen the barista’s hair go from blond to pink to bluish-green and back to blond, and through too many styles to even follow in just four months, and this might be the best of them all.

“I’ll make it,” Willy says with a smile, jumping down to the floor from the last ladder step. “I know what he likes.”

“Well,” Tuesday guy raises his eyebrows. “If you know what he _likes_ , William, then of course.” Kyle can feel himself blush slightly at the insinuation.

Except he doesn’t have the capacity to be fully embarrassed because. William. Their name tag always said Willy, the purple, white, and green flag sticker proudly placed next to their name.

“That’s Kyle,” his barista explains, their back turned to Kyle. “He’s the one who’s been complaining about you being stuck in 2005.”

Kyle wishes they would turn away and say Kyle’s name again. He would happily not go to work and instead live forever in that moment, just Willy saying his name again and again.

“Hi, _Kyle_ ,” The guy at the till says. “It’s going to be three fifty,” his smile turns sardonic. “And no, we do not accept Apple pay.”

“Don’t worry about it,” his barista says, looking back and throwing a magnificent smile Kyle’s way.

“I’m sorry?” Tuesday guy says, his voice rising dangerously. “Willy, are you handing out free drinks in my business now?”

“It’s fine. I’m fine to pay,” Kyle tries to intervene.

“It’s okay, Kyle,” Willy turns to face him, and Kyle’s maybe too distracted by how their lips move when they said Kyle’s name, but he somehow takes the cup when Willy hands it to him with their usual grin. “It’s on the house.”

“It is definitely not on the house,” the guy grumbles.

“Fine, it’s on me,” Willy casually hip-checks their coworker, sticking their tongue at him. “Someone made me take an extra shift so I can splurge.”

“Willy,” Kyle starts saying, feeling guilty and helpless. He doesn’t want them to spend money on him - Kyle is likely making in an hour the same amount of money money Willy is making in a single shift working at the coffee shop. It can’t be easy, and Kyle is too aware of his own privileges to accept this offer from them.

Willy reaches out, gently gripping Kyle’s wrist with their hand. Their skin is soft and warm, their hand pleasantly large around Kyle’s wrist. It gets Kyle to shut up, if nothing else, but he knows his face is still set in an unhappy grimace.

“Don’t sweat it,” Willy says, their smile bright and uncomplicated.

“You can owe him coffee,” the guy at the till says helpfully, he sounds almost bored.

“I. Yeah. I’d like that,” Kyle stammers out and Willy’s smile grows hesitant, but it’s still there. They squeeze Kyle’s wrist gently before letting go.

He somehow has enough brainpower to add a tip, just showing a single dollar bill to one of the jars, barely noticing the “Bagels or Donuts?” sign.

It might be the most overwhelming morning Kyle’s had in a few weeks, months even, and he had a call with four angry people from the San Francisco office last Friday. But Willy’s waving to him as Kyle leaves the coffee shop, a small smile dancing on their lips. It’s so sweet Kyle can’t help but feel a little bit better about everything.

**(3) Wednesday**

Shannon calls him on his way to get coffee, something about transferring the house’s gas bill to the new tenant’s account. She sounds chipper, _happy_ , basically the opposite of how Kyle feels, especially before he’s had his daily caffeine intake.

It’s 8:30am, Shannon used to not even bother getting out of bed before 9, let alone be interested in looking at her phone or talking to other human beings.

“Okay, I have to go, Ky,” She says cheerfully. Kyle doesn’t get why she does this, calling him when she can’t even talk instead of texting or sending an email. It’s like she knows it’s going to ruin his mood for the entire day and does it just to flaunt how little she cares about him now.

“Where are you anyway?” Kyle asks, distracted. He shouldn’t ask. He shouldn’t even care.

He stands in front of the coffee shop, it feels rude coming in when he’s still on the phone to Shannon. Even the thought of mixing seeing Willy while talking to Shannon makes Kyle a little nauseous.

“The gym,” She says and Kyle feels like he’s been punched again. It was one of those things she used to say. _I’ll probably go to the gym after work, Ky. Don’t wait up._. She’d get back home freshly showered on those nights, never even unpacking her gym bag, and Kyle would know.

He can see Willy smiling at him from inside the coffee shop, their smile wide and uncomplicated. They’re so young, so happy. The idea of him being interested in Kyle is ridiculous and Kyle feels like an idiot for that way he’s been hoping, how he’s been gearing towards making a move. Willy is just a cute person at Kyle’s morning coffee place, friendly because they haven’t been forced to live with the bitterness of their mistakes yet.

“Fine,” he tells Shannon. “I’ll do the gas bill thing when I get to the office.”

“Okay, don’t forget!” Shannon reminds him before ending the call. “I’ll talk to you.”

Kyle never thought he’d be where he is, in the middle of his thirties, nothing to show for the last 8 years of his life but a job he doesn’t even like, and an ex wife who didn’t even love him enough to tell him when he became a burden.

He grimaces and turns away from the coffee shop, catching a flash of Willy’s confused face for just a quick moment. It doesn’t even matter, he’ll get a coffee next to the office or whatever.

**(4) Wednesday**

Kyle’s not sure how a stranger can have this much of a hold on his life. But then he thinks back to how Willy’s smile seemed to grow hopeful, almost shy, when Kyle said he’d like to get coffee with him.

Kyle hasn’t actually practiced it, because there’s a limit to how lame you’re allowed to be even the privacy of your own apartment. But Kyle knows what he wants to say. Knows he’s going to come in and ask for his usual coffee, and then he’s going to brush his fingers over Willy’s when they hand him the cup. And then he’s going to ask for Willy’s number.

It’s a real grown up plan and everything. Kyle knows his therapist thinks his anxiety is a protection mechanism for not getting hurt again, and maybe that’s true. What is that saying, it’s not paranoia if someone is out to get you? Well, it’s not trust issues if the person you can’t trust is cheating on you.

There are definitely a lot of reasons for it turn out to be a mistake, but spending time with Willy is the best part of Kyle’s day, as pathetic as that is. And Kyle thinks he might be ready for extending his daily quota of happiness to more than the time it takes to order a coffee.

Unfortunately Kyle forgot that there’s a good reason he doesn’t try and plan out things in his head anymore, the crushing feeling of disappointment too sharp when things don’t go exactly the way he planned them to. There are two other people in the shop, Kyle has seen one of them, the tall hipster-looking one, a few times before. He’s friends with Willy, Kyle knows, remembers feeling a small pang of jealousy at how easily the guy talked to Kyle’s barista the first time he saw him.

It's less of an issue now, since he has his arm casually wrapped around the other guy he’s with, his bigger fame seemingly effortlessly enveloping the shorted guy light haired guy.

They don’t have cups of coffee and Willy doesn’t seem to be busy, but Kyle can’t help but feel like he’s intruding.

“Show it to me again!” Willy says, waving their hands at the couple, obviously excited and distracted. Kyle tries not to look as disappointed as he feels at being ignored.

“Okay,” the smaller guy laughs, stretching his arm and showing Willy what looks like a fresh tattoo. Kyle glances sideways trying to get a look as well. It looks like two hands with a rose, tied by a rope.

“That’s so fucking hot, Mitchy,” Willy almost moans, Kyle is forced to agree, hoping he’s not blushing. Willy’s dressed in a soft looking oversize sweater today, nails painted mint green and their hair pulled back again. They look soft and inviting, and the way they sound combined with the idea they might find that sort of thing hot is just a little too much for Kyle to be able to deal with and breathe through simultaneously.

“It’s pretty sick,” the smaller guy grins, leaning back against the other man. “Aus paid for it. It’s like an engagement ring, but better.”

Kyle doesn’t want to be judgemental, but he can’t help but sigh to himself at how sincere the guy sounds. . They look young, younger than he and Shannon were when they got engaged, probably. He wants to laugh hysterically at how stupid and engagement tattoo sounds to him, just the the idea of having something of Shannon’s carved into his skin makes him shudder inwardly.

Willy groans. “You guys are the worst. I hate you.” They turn to look at Kyle then, their face schooled in polite disinterest. “Your usual?”

Kyle nods and Willy turns away to make it for him.

“Fred’s bought a new car,” The taller man says to Willy, completely ignoring Kyle’s presence. “You should come check it out with us when you’re done.”

“Fuck yeah,” Willy says, looking over their shoulder. “I’m in.”

“Yes!” The smaller man hoots. “It’s going to be epic.”

Willy turns around then, placing Kyle’s cup of coffee on the counter. Kyle stares at it.

“Three fifty,” Willy says, voice bored, before turning back to his friends. “You think Zach would wanna come too?”

Kyle fumbles with his wallet. He finds a ten dollar bill and puts it on the counter next to the coffee cup.

“Keep the change,” he mutters, grabbing his coffee leaving as fast as he can, his eyes downcast.

It feels humiliating. It’s not like he’s even said anything, but Kyle feels like such an absolute fool even thinking about it. Just the idea of Willy being even remotely interested in Kyle is so painfully preposterous. Willy who looks the way they do, who feels more comfortable in their skin than Kyle can even fathom.

**(5) Friday**

Kyle considers getting coffee elsewhere, maybe forever, but at the end of the day he’s a man of habits and he’s not a coward. Also, he really needs his coffee to be able to go into work and pretend to be a functioning, professional adult. 

“Hey,” Willy says when Kyle comes in, their face stoney. They’re wearing a flannel shirt and a pink beanie hat, looking as adorable as always. It’s disappointing that hasn’t quite changed, Kyle would prefer the small heartbreak also meant Willy suddenly became hideous. 

“Hi,” Kyle smiles as politely as he can, trying not to come off as a dirty old man. He really wishes he could let go of this. 

“Let me make you your coffee!” Willy says in a rush, turning away from Kyle.

Kyle sighs, reaching for his wallet. It’s not as awkward as it could be anyhow. 

“So, I feel like I need to apologize,” Willy says, putting Kyle’s cup on the counter. 

Kyle blinks. “Uh, sorry?”

“I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable,“ Willy admits, looking as unhappy as Kyle’s ever seen them. 

“What?” Kyle repeats, still confused.

“I just,” Willy makes a frustrated noise, their hands coming up to wrap around their body, unconsciously defensive. “I’m sorry I hit on you. It won’t happen again,” they shrug. 

Kyle is really unsure of what’s happening. And he hasn’t had his coffee yet, so he grabs the cup. 

“You hit on me?” he asks. He’s not sure Willy ever actually hit on him, sure they flirted a little a few days ago, but that’s- that’s not. 

“You know I did,” Willy frowns at him, annoyed. “I told you to buy me coffee.” 

“But then you ignored me yesterday,” Kyle reminds him. 

“You were -,” Willy sputters indignantly. “You literally decided to skip having coffee on Wednesday. I saw you!”

“That,” Kyle blushes then. He’s not sure how to explain he was on the phone with his ex wife, and he didn’t, no he doesn't, want to dump all his issues on Willy. “It wasn’t about that at all. I liked you flirting with me,” he admits.

Willy smiles, looking satisfied. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Kyle agrees. They stare at each other, quietly. 

Willy bites their lover lip. “Do you mind stepping outside?” They sound hesitant, but excited and Kyle’s heart starts beating faster.

“What?”

“Outside,” Willy insists.

“Why?” Kyle doesn’t even know why he’s being contrary, except Willy seems to find it frustrating and that makes them look adorable. 

“Because I want to kiss you, Kyle,” Willy almost whines, but it’s easy, playful. They spread their hands, motioning to the empty coffee shop. “And this is where I work.”

Kyle feels pleasantly dazed. Kissing. He wasn’t quite prepared for kissing to happen right now, but he can’t say he’s not interested. But it doesn’t mean he can’t tease Willy just a little bit more. “And you,” he grins. “You sure you can just step outside in the middle of your work day?”

“Yes,” Willy insists, stepping from behind the counter and Kyle thinks he might really just need a break or something, just to fully process how good Willy looks. 

“Come on,” Willy says, grabbing Kyle’s arm and practically dragging him outside the shop. 

It’s nice outside, not quite warm but not freezing anymore, yet Kyle still feels a shiver run through him when Willy grabs Kyle by his shoulders to get them to face each other. Kyle is still holding his coffee. 

“Hi,” Willy says, grinning widely. “I think I’d like to be kissed now.”

Kyle raises an eyebrow. “Oh, really?”

“Yes,” and then, much softer. “Please?”

It’s been six months since Kyle’s divorce, 4 months since he moved into his new apartment, and 5 days since Willy looked back at him and suddenly Kyle thought that, yeah, maybe his future isn’t meant to be so bleak. There’s nothing Kyle wants more than to lean in and kiss Willy, coax their mouth open with lips and tongue. 

Kyle doesn’t see a reason to wait anymore. 

Willy tastes like summer rain and frosting, sweet and intoxicating. They lets Kyle push into his personal space and take charge of the kiss. A little sigh escapes their mouth when Kyle holds their jaw and tilts their face sideways so he can control how deep and how fast it goes. 

It’s easy for Kyle to get lost in them, Willy’s lips soft and their tongue curious. They make small delightful sounds and Kyle wants them so damn much he feels he won’t be able to contain this desire, giddy and exhilarated. 

“What happens now?” Kyle asks as he leans back. Willy is looking at him with wide, shining eyes. Content and a little wld. 

“What do you want?” Willy asks carefully. And Kyle wants too much and too little, but he can’t say all that. Doesn’t know how to put this apprehensive excitement blooming inside his chest into words. “I want to take you to out dinner,” Willy continues when Kyle says nothing, a soft, wishful whine in their voice, as if Kyle would ever say no, as if he hadn’t wanted this for months now. “A real date.”

Kyle nods. “I’d like that too.”

**+(1) Saturday**

When they wake up, Willy still tastes like strawberry vodka and the unmistakable stupidity of youth. Kyle feels light-headed and way over his head, just lying in bed with them. 

It’s almost weird having someone else in his bed now. Someone with a body and an attitude so much different than Shannon’s. Someone with a body wider and stronger than Kyle’s, but who smiles softly and seems to be happy to just go with whatever Kyle wants, malleable and happy.

Kyle deepens the kiss, pulling Willy into his lap and reaching behind them to run a possessive hand over their ass, until it’s just the pads of fingers, deftly exploring. 

Willy throws their head back, moaning, when Kyle gently presses two fingers against their hole. They’re still wet from the night before, body twitching lightly as Kyle rubs intentional, slow circles against the sensitive pucker. Even hours later Willy is still delightfully fucked out and Kyle can feel his dick throb at the thought of discovering how they sound when taken like this.

“Fuck,” Willy curses, shaking a little and laughing. “That’s a lot. Don’t -,” 

Kyle pulls his fingers back. “Coffee?” he asks, running a soft, comforting hand through Willy’s hair, pushing it away from their face. “I do owe you one?”

“Yeah, okay,” Willy smiles bashfully, rubbing their nose against Kyle’s collarbone, it’s too endearing to take. Kyle isn’t sure how Willy manages to be so adorable while also making Kyle frustrated. “But after?”

Kyle nods, softly kissing the crown of Willy’s head. “After.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write a character where their gender performance is not part of the fic's narrative in any dramatic way but still very present in an everyday way. I understand this might be frustrating to some readers because it's an opportunity to dig dipper into something important like queer sexuality representation, but I wanted to write a very sweet and uncomplicated relationship so making it a non-issue and just universally accepted felt more appropriate to my need of simple comfort. 
> 
> If you wonder how Kyle knows which pronouns to use, it's because he asked where Willy was the second Tuesday morning he came in and Mo looked Kyle straight in the eyes and very clearly said "They don't work Tuesdays."

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * A [Restricted Work] by [xan_reads (xancredible)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xancredible/pseuds/xan_reads) Log in to view. 




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